


Nasty, Brutish, and Short

by Nary



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Antagonism, Bickering, But basically I want them to be assholes to each other forever, Desperation, F/M, Insults, Love/Hate, Lube, Road Trips, Undead, Unpleasant Biological Facts, Vaginal Sex, kind of gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 22:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11240973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: This was a road trip from hell.  Salim was fine, he seemed like a nice guy, but Sweeney was an obnoxious, loud-mouthed cockgoblin.  She'd threatened to maim him five times on the first day, and it hadn't had any noticeable effect.





	Nasty, Brutish, and Short

This was a road trip from hell. Salim was fine, he seemed like a nice guy, but Sweeney was an obnoxious, loud-mouthed cockgoblin. She'd threatened to maim him five times on the first day, and it hadn't had any noticeable effect. He might shut up for a few minutes, but then something would pique his interest - a billboard on the highway, a song on the radio, a comment she made in passing - and he'd be off and running at the mouth again.

"You know what you need, dead wife?" he piped up from the back seat of the cab, after a mercifully long period when he'd been napping.

"I'm sure you're going to tell me," she replied, looking out the window instead of at him because it only encouraged him.

"If you're gonna let go of this widower of yours, you need a good, hard fuck. Find some poor sod who's willing to throw a bone to a dead bitch - someone without a sense of smell, say - and ride him until you get fuckin' Shadow Moon out of your head."

"Unlikely," she told him. "They're not going to be able to fuck him out of my heart."

"You say that, but as things start to get more liquid up in that torso there, they could start out in your cunt and wind up in your AHHHFUCK!"

Salim tried not to crash the car as Laura half climbed over the seat to throttle Sweeney. "I told you what would happen if you used that word again," she said sweetly.

Sweeney's eyes were bulging out of his head and he made a gurgling sound that was probably another smart-mouthed answer. Laura tightened her grip on his throat just a little and watched him turn even more red before letting him go. He slumped back, coughing and choking.

"I wasn't using it to mean you," he protested when he could talk again. "Just for your actual, you know..."

"Lady garden?"

"Twat. Pussy. Snatch."

"Those are all better, at least," she said, settling back into her seat. "I'm partial to 'axe wound.'"

"You would be, you fucking harpy."

"Could we talk about something else?" Salim asked hopefully. "Such as dinner, perhaps? There are some places where we could stop soon."

While they were eating in a sad little 24 hour breakfast joint in a strip mall (well, the others were eating - Laura was having some ice water) Sweeney came back around to the topic like a dog coming back to its own puke. "How long do you think you can wait, huh? You couldn't hold out when he was in prison, and now he knows you're dead and wouldn't fuck you for all the tea in China. And you're rotting, dead wife. You're going to turn into rancid ooze from the inside out. And no one's ever going to fuck you again."

Salim looked down at his plate of scrambled eggs and toast. "Somehow I find I am no longer hungry."

"Eat up," Sweeney told him through a mouthful of bacon. "We're not stopping again."

Salim shot him a look with a surprising amount of stubbornness for someone generally so mild-mannered. "I do need to sleep, you know."

"So," Sweeney said, "we'll take turns drivin'."

"I'm not letting you drive," Laura said grimly. "You'll have us all in a ditch, you're a fucking maniac."

"Given what happened on your last car ride, are you sure it's not that you're worried you might not be able to keep my dick out of your mouth?" 

Laura threw the glass of water in his face. He blinked and sputtered, wiping himself with the back of his hand, picking ice cubes out of his shirt. Laura decided that ripping him apart right here in the restaurant would attract unwanted attention. Instead she said, "We are stopping for the night, because if I have to spend another eight hours in the car with you, I will murder you."

There was a motel just across the road from the diner. Salim booked them three rooms, putting the charges on a credit card Laura was pretty sure wasn't his. Maybe it was Ibrahim bin Irem's. She was just glad she wouldn't have to share a room with anyone.

It wasn't like she could sleep, though. She could lie down and close her eyes, but nothing happened. She didn't even really feel tired, not like she should have. Weary, yes, worn out, but not sleepy. Being dead was fucked up. 

She lay there and tried not to think about her organs dissolving inside her. Sweeney was right about that, at least - she was going to rot. She was already rotten. Maybe she'd been rotten since before she died. She rolled over, unable to get comfortable, far too aware of a weird, unpleasant sloshing sound from inside her body. It took her a minute to remember she'd had some water earlier, and that was what she was hearing. Probably. Her digestive system was weird these days, not hooked up right - things just ran straight through her, or never came out again, disappearing into the black hole of her core. Sticking to ice water and alcohol seemed like the safest bet for self-preservation.

"Fucking Sweeney," she muttered. He'd made her think about what would happen if she couldn't get this resurrection he talked about, the real one, not this mockery of existence. Or what if she came back to real, 100% living breathing life, and Shadow still didn't want her? She wasn't sure which would be worse: being fully conscious and aware as her flesh decayed around her, or losing her husband for good. Actually, scratch that - the rotting while you were still around to feel it would definitely be worse. Shadow was a good man, had been a good husband, but even if he'd managed to make her heart beat once, no man was worth turning into a literal puddle of goo over while she chased him halfway across the country. 

Laura got up and looked at herself in the mirror. Was it her imagination, or was her skin more sallow, her eyes a little more sunken? How long did she have left?

That night felt like it lasted a hundred years.

The next day, Sweeney seemed almost subdued - maybe even contrite? Or at least he did until she realized he was just hungover. She wasn't sure where he'd gotten the booze - maybe it was a leprechaun thing, like the gold coins he could pull out of nowhere. He slept half the day in the back seat of the cab, which was almost pleasant apart from the snoring. She and Salim discovered a shared love of 90s pop music, and she taught him how to play Cows on My Side. But at the back of her mind, she couldn't stop thinking about how she was living on borrowed time. Or stolen time. Or time that had accidentally been given away in a drunken bar bet, and then tossed on the ground like trash. 

They were pulled over at the side of the road and Salim was taking one of his prayer breaks when Sweeney finally stirred and sat up. "Where the fuck are we?" he asked groggily.

"Halfway to Buttfuck Nowhere," Laura replied. 

"I thought we already went to your folks' house," Sweeney muttered, and went to take a piss against a fencepost. Laura looked away a bit too late, and confirmed that her nickname for him was accurate. Gross.

There was less arguing that afternoon, maybe because they were all more tired. Even Sweeney could only muster a few insults and curses. The road unspooled before them, and they tumbled after it, following a path they couldn't see the end of. Laura felt antsy and restless, but forced herself to close her eyes and at least pretend to sleep. 

It wasn't a dream, exactly, because she couldn't dream anymore, but it wasn't just her imagination either. At least, that's what she told herself later. In her not-dream, Sweeney was there, and she actually didn't hate him. That was how she knew it couldn't be real. Because in real life, she would have punched him instead of going along with the things they were doing...or even enjoying them... She shook herself back to alertness and grimaced. She must be getting really desperate if that was the kind of thing she was daydreaming about.

The motel they stopped at that night was a step up from the previous night's accommodations. Laura cranked the AC as soon as she got inside. It felt good, but she found that she was dreading the thought of another night like the last one: alone, miserable, and slowly rotting away. 

Before she could give herself time to think about it too hard, she stepped out of her room and knocked on the door of the room to the right. Sweeney opened the door, shirt off and scratching himself, and she almost turned away right then. Instead, through gritted teeth, she said, "Fine. You win."

He looked more stunned than usual. "You're gonna give back the coin?"

"No, you asshole, I'm going to fuck you."

Sweeney's mouth slowly curved into a completely insufferable smirk. "I don't know, dead wife. You're married, and besides, you're disgusting."

"So are you," she retorted. "The disgusting part. I assume no one's ever been stupid enough to marry you."

He shrugged. "Think what you like. But don't think I'm gonna fuck you." He moved to close the door, and Laura stuck her foot in it. 

"You were right," she said, even though it galled her. "About one specific thing. You were right that maybe I'll never get Shadow back and this is the only chance I have."

"That's two things," he pointed out. 

"Fuck you," Laura told him. 

"I hear you want to. Granted there's not much selection for men around here - you could ask Salim but I think you'd be disappointed," Sweeney grinned, opening the door the rest of the way. "You wouldn't be my first choice either, dead wife."

"You think you're mine?"

He shrugged, making a "you're here, aren't you?" gesture around his motel room. Laura had to admit he had a point, but she didn't have to admit it out loud.

Instead she said, "We should get some supplies first." She had already given plenty of thought to the gory details, and knew what they'd need.

They went to a drug store. Businesslike, Laura swung by and grabbed a pack of paper towels, then gravitated to the sex aisle and picked up some condoms. Sweeney trailed behind her, hands shoved in his pockets and looking uncomfortable. "Get some lube too," he told her. "Not like your cunt's going to get wet for me, now, is it?"

"It wouldn't have even when I was alive," she pointed out, and picked up a bottle of warming lubricant. 

"Thoughtful," he said. "Make you feel a little less dead inside." 

The stock boy who was refilling the shelves a few yards away was staring at them with some degree of horror, Laura realized. Sweeney's voice tended to carry. "Come on," she said, "let's go."

"I shouldn't ask what the paper towels are for, should I," Sweeney asked as they headed towards the checkout. Laura wasn't sure if she could still be mortified, as an actual dead person, but she was sure trying.

Back at her motel room, Sweeney shivered. "You tryin' to refrigerate it in here?"

Laura refused to admit that was exactly what she'd been doing. "Just get undressed," she told him, tugging off her own tank top and starting to work on her pants. She wanted to get on with it before she changed her mind.

She had to admit even though she found him intensely aggravating, Sweeney was built. Not stacked like Shadow was, but lean and muscular and, if she could ignore his smirking face, not bad at all. His cock wasn't hard yet, but she didn't take it personally. This wasn't for fun so much as it was an experiment. She spread out an entire roll's worth of paper towels on the bed, layering it crossways. "For leaks," she told him. "I don't want to have to lie in it later."

"Delightful," he said.

Laura considered telling him about the time in the not too distant past when she shit a gallon of embalming fluid, but decided maybe that wasn't appropriate foreplay. Instead she went and grabbed a couple of the motel's towels from the bathroom and laid them over the paper towels. 

"Are you expectin' to explode?" he asked, bending to take off his underwear. "I'm not really gonna tear you in half. And if I did, I'd leave you for the maid to clean up tomorrow."

"Just being careful," Laura muttered. She put the package of condoms and the lube on the bedside table, within easy reach. "There. All ready." She turned to glance at him, running her gaze over his body. "Even you're getting halfway there."

Sweeney took his cock in his hand, giving it a couple of rough strokes to stiffen it further. "So then, how do we do this?" he asked.

"Do I need to draw you a picture?" Laura tugged her underwear off and lay down on the bed. The layer of paper towels rustled underneath her hand as she patted the space beside her. Sweeney came over and sat there, facing away from her. Laura didn't blame him - she wouldn't have wanted to look at some dead girl's autopsy incisions and the way her skin was turning to a mottled grey as Mr. Jacquel's paint job wore off. "Look," she said, "if this is too weird for you, I get it. It was just a stupid idea. You can leave if you want." She was surprised at how nervous she felt - how much she didn't want him to leave. He was an asshole but he was all she had right now.

"Nah," he said. "We came this far together, might as well go the rest of the way. Besides," he added, turning to glance at her over one freckled shoulder, "maybe you'll be less of a bitch if you get laid."

Laura grinned, baring her teeth, and pulled him towards her. It was easier to do this feeling mad, in all possible senses of the word - feeling pissed off at Sweeney, at Shadow, at the universe; feeling unhinged and off balance and like anything could happen. She didn't kiss Sweeney on the mouth, remembering what he'd said about the taste of death - instead she bit down on his shoulder as she dragged him on top of her, making him gasp. With her newfound strength it was easy to put him just where she wanted him, and his weight bearing down on her felt good. He was so much bigger than her that she felt small, surrounded, enclosed. His skin was warm while hers was cold, and she seized at him as though she could drain that heat from him and keep it for herself. She reached between them, fumbling for his cock. It felt alive, hard and beating in her hand like a heart. 

"Thought you wanted me to wear a rubber," he pointed out, although he didn't push her hand away or make any more serious objections to her stroking him.

"Yeah, for the actual fucking part - I don't think I need to worry about getting diseased or knocked up anymore, I just don't want to have to clean jizz out of myself." She refrained from elaborating about foreign substances and what they could do to her body, about bacteria and decomposition and smells that wouldn't go away no matter how much she washed. 

"Fair enough," Sweeney said. "Now I hope you don't mind my sayin', but this might work better if you roll over."

"Fine, we don't have to see each other's faces that way," Laura said grimly.

Something flickered across his expression, barely visible in the low light and gone in an instant before Laura could figure out what it meant. "It's not that," he told her. "It's just 'cause you're such a tiny wee thing, we line up better like that."

Laura had to admit he had a point. Besides, she liked getting fucked from behind. "All right," she said, flipping over onto her stomach. "Put on a condom first though - you know how, right?"

"I'm old, not stupid," he said, reaching for one and tearing open the package so he could put it on. "Believe me, some gods think these things are the greatest fuckin' invention - no more little demigods running around by accident on account of how you couldn't keep it in your pants." 

Laura reached for the lube and passed him that as well. "Don't be skimpy with it," she told him.

Despite having just handed him a bottle of lube, she still wasn't quite expecting it when his slick fingers slid along her pussy. She squealed, surprised at the sensation. It didn't feel bad, just strange. Soon it started to warm against her cool skin, and his fingers slipped into and out of her more easily. "How's this feel?" he asked her as he brought his hand further down to stroke her clit, unexpectedly thoughtfully.

"Good," Laura gasped, because it did. Somewhere in her dead body, at least some of the right nerve endings were still connected to let her feel pleasure. She squirmed, pushing back against him. "Come on," she urged him, "hurry up and fuck me!"

Sweeney didn't need any further encouragement. Spreading her open, he pressed into her slowly at first, as if feeling his way, but Laura barked orders at him and soon he was pounding her hard enough that she had to brace herself against the headboard. He was panting with each stroke, his hands locked to her hips as he drove into her over and over again. "Fuck, fuuuuck, yes," she cried, feeling as close to alive as she had in days - as close as she'd felt since she'd kissed Shadow. 

It wasn't quite enough, though. Laura wanted more, wanted something a hard cock, a bunch of lube, and a magic coin couldn't give her. She didn't know how to get that, though, so she went for the next best thing. "My ass," she gasped. "Fuck my ass!"

She could feel Sweeney hesitate, didn't need to see his face to know what expression was on it - that sort of stunned look he got when he wasn't expecting something. "You sure?" he said, still balls-deep in her pussy.

"Yes I'm fucking sure, come on! I told you I liked it, you can't really be surprised!"

There was a moment's pause while he drew out of her, adjusting his angle of attack. She could feel her pussy dripping lube, and he scooped up a handful of that artificial wetness and worked it against her ass, making her moan desperately. He was still running his hands over her, spreading her open, when she felt the tip of his cock nudging at her back entrance. When he slid in she felt like she might scream, or maybe she actually did, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that it felt indecently good, the kind of good you could never describe to anyone, including the person fucking you. She groaned as he filled her, and reached down to rub her clit. 

Sweeney went slow at first - hard, deep strokes that took their sweet time. He clamped one hand on her shoulder to pull her closer as he picked up speed, bending over her back as he reamed her roughly. Laura felt like she might dissolve, be pulled apart and disintegrate forever, and in that moment she would have accepted her fate. It wasn't a life-giving fuck, but it was nasty, brutish, and short, which was close enough. Laura shuddered, a wave of pleasure spreading through her like a fever, but cold. She heard Sweeney say her name with something like wonder on his lips as she came, and then he was coming too, hips slamming against hers like a jackhammer, like a bolt of lighting, like oblivion. She heard him groan like he was being gutted, and felt the heavy weight of him on her back as he fell. She couldn't bring herself to turn over and look him in the face - she felt like they both needed a moment of privacy, as foolish as that was with him still buried inside her ass.

When his breath slowed and he finally pulled away from her, Laura felt empty, but it wasn't quite the same emptiness she'd felt before, the lost, despairing kind. It was an emptiness like hunger - it would still kill her eventually, but she could sate it for a little while. 

Once he'd disposed of the condom, and she'd pushed the mess of towels off onto the floor, he came to lie down beside her again. Laura hadn't been sure if he would or not, hadn't wanted to ask for fear of seeming needy, hadn't wanted to tell him to go for fear of seeming cold. "Gettin' kind of loose and sloppy there, girl," Sweeney mumbled, draping his arm around her shoulders. "Or was that just how your arse was when you were alive too?"

Laura swatted him but didn't put her full strength into it - just enough to sting. He planted a surprisingly tender kiss on the top of her head and within a few minutes had fallen asleep. Laura might not be able sleep anymore, but the night was less endless and awful with someone beside her.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this after Ep. 6, and was worried before I watched Ep. 7 that it would ruin my plans. Fortunately it only encouraged me! 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [naryrising](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/naryrising) if you want to ask questions, make requests, or chat!


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